


Safe and Ignorant

by 77heaven



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Rating May Change, Stockholm Syndrome, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-09 11:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/77heaven/pseuds/77heaven
Summary: STEM is a cruel and unforgiving place, especially for those who are sensitive and easily affected. Many have lost their minds while trying to find a way out and [name] was supposed to share their fate. What she didn't know, however, is that there was never any fate in this twisted machine – only his will.Quite surprisingly, he decided to keep her alive.





	1. Idyll

It was yet another rainy day for Krimson City. Dark, heavy clouds hoovered over the buildings, making everything appear more grey and depressing than it actually was. For most people, such atmospheric conditions were a perfect reason to stay inside as much as possible - thanks to that, the whole place looked quite deserted. Not everybody had such a comfortable choice to make, though.

„What is up with this damn weather....” A blonde woman in her late-thirties moaned as she was staring through the car window. She was dressed in a neatly ironed, dark blue uniform - as the badge on her shirt stated, she was working for the Krimson City Police Department. „It's so cold in here too. Why isn't the heater on?”, she asked as she turned towards her only companion – a gentle-looking man in his late-forties. Just as her, he was wearing a similar uniform with the same badge.

"It actually is," He replied as he drove through wet, colorless streets. "It just doesn't seem to work."

"How perfect." She said sarcastically.

"Don't worry, Dilma – our shift is almost over. We only have about 25 minutes left and then we'll be able to call it a day. How about being a bit more positive?" He smiled at the woman. She couldn't help but respond with the same expression.

"I guess today you're the positive one out of our duo, John. Let me guess: it's because you're meeting [name] after work, right?"

"Correct." He replied as his gentle smile grew slightly bigger. "I haven't seen her for such a long time...almost a year I believe? She has recently turned 21 and is studying photography abroad. She's doing fantastic! Have I told you about it yet?"

"Yes, about a hundred times," Dilma laughed brightly. "But I don't mind hearing about it once again. I actually find it kind of endearing when you enter the proud-father-mode." she grinned teasingly. John sent her an intimidating stare, but quickly burst out laughing.

"Well, I definitely am proud of her. I'm happy that she's able to pursue her dreams and do what she loves."

"That's understable." Dilma nodded. "Is she staying with her mother?"

"Yes, she's gonna stay in Lana's house for two weeks and then travel back abroad. We'll still have a lot of time to meet and talk though, and that's the most important." John was still smiling, but couldn't hide the slight sadness in his eyes. He always felt a bit gloomy when he though about his ex-wife - the mother of his only child. He still remembered what she said while they were talking about separation...how _some people just don't fit each other and it's not anyone's fault_. He pressed his lips into a tight line and quickly shook off the painful memory. It was supposed to be a happy day, and all that he wanted to think about was the meeting with his daughter. Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

"Could you check if it's from [name]?" He asked Dilma. He was very serious when it came to safe driving, so he preferred not to use his mobile while he was behind the wheel.

"Sure." She replied as she took his phone and read the message. "Looks like it is. She wrote 'Hey dad, I'm waiting near the cinema. I have a red umbrella but I'm sure you'd recognize me even without it'. Smiley face."

"Well, thankfully she has that umbrella – it seems like it's raining even stronger than before. The cinema is pretty close and our shift is almost over – would you mind if we drove there now and picked [name] up? I'll drive you home after that."

"Of course I don't mind. Let's go there right away – she may have an umbrella, but it's still definitely cold out there." Dilma offered John a warm smile, which he happily returned.

 

*******

 

[Name] was staring at the soaking wet streets of Krimson City, awaiting her father's arrival. She kept her eyes peeled for any police car and tried not to think about how freezing the air felt on her bare hands. The weather was definitely not pleasant, but [name] was still excited – she missed her father dearly and couldn't wait to finally see him. Her new univeristy and friends were great, but it was good to be in Krimson City again. She played with her [h/c], damp hair, trying to pass the time – luckily, it didn't take long for the familiar police vehicle to drive by. She immediately spotted her father as he waved his hand at her, instructing to get inside the car. It took her a few seconds to hop right in and take a place in the backseat.

"Dad!" She said happily as John sent her the warmest of smiles. "It's so good to see you! Also, good morning Mrs. Torres." She greeted Dilma politely. [name] recognized most of her father's colleagues from work - Dilma Torres happened to be the one she probably knew the most. She was her father's shift partner after all.

"Hello, [name]. Also, feel free to simply call me 'Dilma' - it's not like you're a high-schooler anymore and I kind of feel old when you refer to me so formally." The blonde grinned widely. [name] agreed, though she knew it may take her a while to get used to this less official way of speaking.

"How was the movie?" John asked, watching his daughter through the rear-view mirror.

"Beautifully shot and pretty funny. We were laughing a lot, the jokes were quite intelligent." [name] chuckled, remembering one of the particularly entertaining scenes. "Also, Dana asked to say hi to you. It's crazy how much she has changed since we were both going to the Krimson City Middle School. She's studying medicine now."

"Say hi to her from me too. It feels like it was just yesterday when I was driving you both to the acting club on every Wednesday." John smiled softly, remembering the innocent times of his daughter's childhood. He couldn't help but feel slightly bitter about how perfect everything used to be back then.

"I'm not going to lie, you definitely went through some changes yourself." Dilma turned her face towards [name] and scanned through the girl's appearance. Her [h/c] hair got longer, and her style seemed more mature. Under the green parka jacket she was wearing a short, yet modest burgundy dress with delicate floral print on it. She paired it with some sheer tights and long black boots. As Dilma said before, John's daughter was definitely not a high-schooler anymore – she turned into a pretty fashionable young woman. Her features got more defined too, though she still had that delicate baby-face-thing going on. It was probably all thanks to her mother's genes. _She's definitely very Lana-like in looks_ , Dilma thought to herself.

"So what would you like to do today, [name]?" John asked his daughter, warm smile never leaving his face. "You still have about 5 minutes of planning since that's how much we have left to our shift's ending."

"Hmmmmm...how about grabbing a coffee and a slice of cherry pie? You know, in this nice little diner where you always used to take me when I got a good grade in middle school?" [name] smiled kindly at her father.

"Sounds like a perfect idea to me. We'll drop Dilma by her house first, and then we can go-"

John didn't manage to finish his sentence as the police radio suddenly made a short noise. It was quiet for a few more seconds, and then emitted a message that left everyone shocked.

 

**„All units, all units; 11-99, expedite cover called 3, Beacon Mental Hospital – multiple homicides”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! This is my first fanfic ever and since English is not my native language, there may be some silly mistakes - I apologize for them. The Reader is pretty characterized in this so sorry if it's not your cup of tea - it was just an idea that I wanted to explore. 
> 
> Not going to lie, the first chapter is rather dialogue-heavy, dry, and slow but no worries, I'll get to action. I just needed to introduce some characters that will be important later on.
> 
> Have fun reading!


	2. Fata Morgana

The short, emotionless radio message kept on ringing in [name]'s ears for a while. It was like a cold shower, successfully cooling down all the light-hearted happiness she was feeling just a few moments ago. _Multiple homicides_...John's daughter felt like it sounded too surreal to be true. Her head was spinning with various questions, but for some reason she couldn't find the right words to ask them out loud. All she could do was hope for the answers to somehow come her way. The silence lasted for about a minute, and then Dilma spoke with an eerily calm voice.

„I guess our shift won't be ending just yet.”

John understood it perfectly. This was pretty much a red alert and nothing could be done about it. He turned around and gazed at [name] apologetically. As he was about to open his mouth, she spoke with a slightly trembling voice.

„Dad, it's completely fine,” - she ensured, though her face was full of concern. „Please, go there as soon as possible...I'm not exactly sure what happened in this hospital but it seems to be very serious. I'll wait as much as needed.”

John looked unsure, but he knew there was no other choice. This day was not supposed to look like this - he desperately wanted to end this shift and finally be able to catch up with his daughter's life. It seems like fate had other plans for them, though – he could only hope that the initial investigation won't take too long.

„I promise I'll do everything to make it as quick as possible and then we'll go right to that diner we were talking about. As for the pie, you'll get a slice with some extra ice-cream on top – you have my word for it.” John said with a slightly sad smile on his face.

„Don't worry about anything, we'll have a lot of time to talk.” - [name] returned the expression with much more warmth to it, and then watched her father turn around and put the keys in the ignition. She looked at him for a few more seconds and then gazed back through the window. As they drove through familiar streets of Krimson City, she was thinking about the whole situation – how many victims were there? Have their families already been notified about their deaths? Was the murderer caught? She couldn't help but shiver at that thought – what if whoever did this was still out there, lurking around? The girl got so lost in thoughts that she didn't even notice the moment her father parked by the infamous Beacon Mental Hospital. She took her time to carefully look at the building – it was huge and majestic, maybe even a bit overwhelming to look at. Though it was beautiful in a very peculiar, gothic way, it also gave her the creeps – it seemed to be way too dark and dreary for a place where people were being treated. There were also at least four police cars parked nearby, which didn't necessary warm up the whole scenery.

„I think I see Sebastian over there.” Dilma broke the silence as she looked at a tall man standing by one of the cars. John followed her gaze and nodded.

„It's definitely him. Looks like his crew got here first – I also see Joseph and Kid.”

[name] also looked in the same direction. She recognized detective Sebastian Castellanos immediately. She saw him a few times in the KCPD's office back when she was still in high school - she used to visit her father there once a week after her parents had split up. Detective Joseph Oda was also someone she knew, but the woman they were with was a completely new face for her. _She_ _must_ _be their new shift parter_ , [name] concluded.

„Let's go and say hi then.” - Dilma put on her police cap and started to get out of the car. Before she closed the door, she shot [name] a quick smile an waved her hand. The girl returned the gesture and then faced her father. He was already looking at her.

„Sorry it turned out this way...” John started with a regretful expression on his face. „I hope it won't take long. I'll leave the radio on for you.”

„Thanks, dad,” [name] smiled at him warmly, but then her eyes filled with concern once again. „Please, be careful...”

„Of course, as always.” He replied gently and closed the car door. His daughter watched him as he approached Dilma, who was already chatting with detective Castellanos and his partners. They exchanged a few words with each other and then all together disappeared behind the heavy hospital door.

 

*******

 

Minutes were passing by slower than ever. [name] looked at the car radio in order to check the time once again – she felt as if it was the only thing she's been doing for a while now. 45 minutes – that's how long ago her father went through the unwelcoming door of the Beacon Mental Hospital. At first she was simply analyzing the situation in her head, asking herself the same questions over and over again and finding no answers to them. Then she began daydreaming – something she was known for doing quite often. She observed the birds flying over the hospital, noticed the way nearby bushes were shaking in the wind and spotted a few leaves falling to the ground. She also noted a slight pressure in her head, which she quickly brushed of as a sign of an incoming thunder. [name] closed her eyes, hoping the headache won't get worse.

She concentrated on a song that was playing on the radio – it was a slow, relaxing ballad. Since she knew it, she started humming along with the singer. It was quite soothing – the girl quickly started feeling tired and sleepy, but the pressure in her head didn't seem to go away.

The song ended, and a new one replaced it almost right away. Another ballad – this time even slower than the one before. _Was this station always so focused on such kind of music?_ [name] didn't know, but she also didn't mind - she quite liked ballads. Her head was now more or less in pain, so she adjusted her position to a more comfortable one. Her eyes were still closed, as light only seemed to make matters worse.

Another song came in – this one didn't even have any vocals. It was beautiful though – beautiful, sad, and somehow very familiar. [name] focused on the soft, innocent-sounding piano melody and felt as if it was making her pain go away. What was the name of this piece? Ah, yes – _Clair de Lune_. She thought about how surprising it was to find this composition on some regular radio station. She let herself get lost in the tranquilizing sound of it as she felt more and more sleepy...

 

**SHHHHHH-**

 

[name]'s head suddenly exploded with pain as the music was abruptly cut by white noise. John's daughter buried her face in her hands and started massaging her temples, hoping it will somehow help. She had some severe headaches in the past but this was a whole new level. The girl felt like she needed some fresh air, so she got out of the car without even thinking much. The place seemed eerily empty and frozen in time – there was no one around. She looked through the police cars with her hands still on her temples, but couldn't find any living soul in her sight. Something has caught her attention though – Beacon's door were now wide open, almost in an inviting way. [name] stared at it for a moment, when suddenly she came to a terrifying realization – the entrance seemed to be getting closer to her with every passing second. It was the most bizarre feeling she has ever experienced - she wanted to fight it and run in the opposite direction, but for some reason she couldn't make any move. All she had left was screaming for help, but no one seemed to hear her desperate pleas. The world around her blurred as the heavy door caught up to her. Right after that, everything went dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guess who will (finally) appear in the next chapter...


	3. Nightmare

Distorted metal clanking sounds. Muttered growls. Footsteps echoing somewhere in the distance. The familiar dull headache located in her temples...

[name] was slowly waking up, but everything still felt very nightmare-like to her. She was laying on some cold, flooded floor, feeling confused to the point of sickness. She kept her eyes closed as she took a deep breath and tried to remember what had happened before she passed out. She recalled being in a cinema and then talking to her father and Dilma in their police car. She also recollected the unsettling message about some serious crime. She knew that at some point she had to wait alone inside the vehicle and that she had a headache. For some reason, she also remembered the soothing sound of _Clair de Lune_ , but the memory wasn't clear enough to conclude anything from it. Besides that, she had nothing. Even more confused than before, [name] took another deep breath and slowly opened her eyes.

She was in some dark, claustrophobic corridor. It looked awfully filthy and rusty. The floor was indeed wet – there was a lot of dark, murky water standing around and though it's level was very low, it still managed to effectively soak all of [name]'s clothes. The tiles on the walls were stained, dirty, and mostly broken. There were no windows around – the only source of light was a single orange bulb hanging from the ceiling. [name] felt a huge wave of panic as she realized she had never been in this place before, not to even mention she was absolutely terrified by the disturbing design of it. She slowly got up off the flooded floor, though found it hard to stand on her shaky legs. It took her a while to find the courage to actually start moving forward – her steps were slow and uncertain as she made her way through the corridor. She tried to move as quietly as possible and kept her ears open. From time to time, various ominous noises could be heard somewhere nearby. Sometimes it would be the sound of something being dropped in the water. The other time, it would be a distanced moan or growl. At any moment like that, [name] would stop moving, completely paralyzed by fear. After some time, she would always start going forward again, though – she didn't want to stay in this place forever. The thing that kept on pushing her forward was thinking about her father and his gentle smile. She knew that he and Dilma were probably already looking for her and once they are reunited, it will turn out that it was all a silly nothing - be it a joke, too much alcohol or a sleepwalking incident. It didn't matter that she couldn't think of anyone who would ever pull such a prank on her and wasn't either a sleepwalker or an avid drinker - she simply couldn't bear the thought that whatever was happening could be potentially dangerous. For her own sake, she had to make herself believe that everything is somehow going to be alright. When she finally made it to the end of the corridor, she saw some heavily rusted, metal door. The girl knew there was no other choice but to open it, but she still hesitated, not knowing what may be on the other side. Finally, she put her shaky hand on the handle and pressed it slowly. Behind the door, she found some small steps and another corridor – this one was wider and completely dry, with some old furniture scattered around. As [name] noted, there were still no windows. She saw much more orange bulbs placed on the walls, though – they were making everything appear more fiery and dangerous. Some of them weren't working, but this place was still less dark than the previous one. [name] made a few more steps when she suddenly registered a slow movement on her left. She screamed uncontrollably and jumped to the other side, facing whoever was walking next to her. She saw a wide-eyed female with a bewildered expression on her face. Her hair was matted with something so dark, that it appeared almost pitch-black. The dress she had on was torn in a few places. As [name] was about to scream again, she noticed something else. The sharp edges around the stranger's image.

It was glass.

She was looking at her own reflection in the mirror.

With a trembling hand, she took a piece of her hair in her fingers and examined it carefully. The dark, dried-up liquid that made it so dark, the flooded corridor she woke up in...it was never murky water. It was blood. [name] had to cover her own mouth to stop herself from making any noise as she felt another huge wave of panic. Suddenly, she heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from somewhere in front of her. Without thinking much, she quickly hid behind one of the partly destroyed furniture pieces. Not long after that, someone run past her hiding spot. She didn't have much time to take a good look of the person, not to even mention she was too stressed to make any reasonable observations. All she registered was very light, short hair and all-white outfit. The stranger was mumbling something quite loudly, obviously in a very panicked state. He almost attacked the door leading to the flooded hallway and closed them as soon as he was on the other side. [name] was thankful he didn't see her, but tensed up even more when she heard another fast footsteps. Whoever the light-haired stranger was, he was running from someone else. Soon, [name] saw another man running towards the same door. His moves were strangely mechanic. He was also making a lot of bizarre, gurgling noises. The police uniform he was wearing was dirty and worn-out. He begun aggressively banging his fists on the door while growling in an almost animalistic way. [name] felt tears coming to her eyes as she fought the urge to scream. She had no idea what was going on. Suddenly, the man started turning his head around slowly, almost as if he had sensed someone else's presence.

[name] felt sick when she saw the cop's face. His whole right cheek was covered in painful-looking blisters and cuts. The uncovered parts of his body were greyish and had numerous wounds on it, some disturbingly deep. His bloodshot eyes were looking at her as if she was nothing but food.

Some primal instinct jolted [name] as she jumped from her position and sprinted in the opposite direction, only to run straight into another monster.

 

*******

 

STEM was overflowing with new life, new minds to play with. He could feel each one of them - some stronger, some weaker. Every little piece of consciousness that was pulled into _his_ machine, be it voluntary or not, was interesting in its own way. He found it almost sickly entertaining to observe these pathetic excuses of cops loosing it to the world he was a creator of. He was always there to watch their last moments as they succumbed to fear, losing the essence of their own beings in this painful process. Those who somehow kept on surviving, on the other hand, were like a challenge. He wanted to see how far would they go to keep on living, how much could he test them before they break.

Among all of these minds, one was unique. Strange. _Compatible_. His only opportunity to leave this place – a young, mental patient called Leslie Withers. Even now, he could read the boy's paranoid thoughts. He knew where he was and wanted to get to know him better. He could also feel the presence of another mind somewhere near Leslie. A deathly terrified, fading mind. Another reason to go there.

Ruvik moved through various horror-filled places just by the power of his own consciousness – wherever he wanted to be, he simply appeared. As he got close enough, he heard a series of ear-piercing screams – the sounds that could only be made by someone who's close to losing all hope. He kept on moving forward untill he finally stumbled upon the source of all this noise. A young girl was laying on the floor, desperately fighting for her life as two of the lost were trying to steal it from her. Her hair was scattered on the ground as she tried to crawl further from her opponents. It was all for nothing, though – one of the policemen grabbed her left leg and sunk his teeth deep into her calf. An intense, pained scream left her mouth as tears started running down her face. Everything was bathed in the hypnotic, orange light. Ruvik couldn't help but find the whole scene almost artistic in some strange way. He stood there watching everything carefully, his expression unmoved.

That's when she raised her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes were full of pain and terror, but also crushing sadness. It was a look of a person who desperately wanted to live. An innocent soul, someone who felt betrayed by the world as they were forced to face the cruel reality – that they were fading away unwillingly.

He saw many people die before, but this particular look was given to him only once in his life...a mere second before falling out of _that repulsive barn_. After all these years, the memory was still as excruciatingly painful as flames burning his skin on that day.

Suddenly nothing about this situation felt artistic anymore. Her hair, darkened by dried-up blood, looking almost black in the dim, orange light. The bloodcurdling screams and the look on her face...it all felt _too similar_ in a way. Only now, he had the power to change the destiny.

One move of his hand was enough for both of the lost to turn into red ash. The girl was too shocked to question their fate – she shifted into a fetal position and held her bleeding leg as she sobbed loudly, her eyes closed shut. She didn't even notice a cloaked figure approaching her slowly. Ruvik carefully scanned over her frail-looking frame - now, when the emotions have cooled down, she didn't seem as similar to his lost sister as his consciousness tried to make it look like. Still, the new memory was made, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, a part of himself despised the thought of leaving behind someone who reminded him of _her_ even remotely. He may have created the world inside of STEM, his conciousness powerful enough to make ideas come to life, but he could never have _her_ back. No matter how many times he tried, she would always appear tainted by his hate and pain. Burned skin, sharp, elongated claws, multiple limbs...a twisted mockery of once beautiful and full of life Laura.

The girl laying on the floor was not a flawed creation of his memory, though. She was her own being. On top of that, a part of his mind now associated her with his sister.

Maybe she could be somehow useful in the process of restoring what he had was lost.

An idea was slowly starting to form in his mind. He felt like it had some potential and wanted to explore it more.

 _Now sleep_ , he ordered in his thoughts, and the girl's sobs fell silent.

 

 

 


	4. Safe Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend listening to this as you read, since it's mentioned in the chapter: https://youtu.be/S-Xm7s9eGxU

_The sun was shining brightly as she walked through the endless field of sunflowers. She knew she had to get somewhere, but couldn't exactly remember where. It didn't seem that important anyway – she just enjoyed the never-ending stroll, the weather, and the beautiful nature around her._

_There were no worries in this place._

_With each step, she felt more revitalised and refreshed, like the field was sending her some invisible energy. When she felt she had enough of it, she closed her eyes, took a deep, satisfying breath..._

 

...and woke up.

[n] was staring at the ceiling for almost a whole minute, feeling strangely numb. She couldn't recall anything that happened before she fell asleep, yet at the same time wasn't too interested in finding out - what mattered was here and now, and she was laying somewhere comfortable, which seemed enough to satisfy her mind. On top of that, a very tranquil piano music could be heard from somewhere close – the next room, perhaps? It made her feel even more serene and, in some way, _safe_. She reminisced her surreal dream for a few more minutes, then finally decided to sit down to take a look of the place she was in.

The room was big and elegantly decorated. Everything, from furniture to ornaments, looked expensive and vintage. The bed she was sitting in was queen-sized, with immaculate, patterned bedding on it. On the wall next to the bed was a huge window, slightly covered by long, crimson curtains. [n] was surprised to see what's behind it – a seemingly never-ending field of sunflowers _. What a coincidence,_ she thought to herself. The whole place was bathed in sunlight – so warm and yellow-toned that it seemed almost unnatural, too picturesque to be real.

[n] didn't remember ever being in this room before, and she couldn't define how exactly she felt about this. She wasn't scared or confused – quite the opposite, she felt strangely at peace. At the same time, she sensed that something was simply _off,_ but couldn't precisely pinpoint what.

Suddenly, the sounds of piano stopped completely, which made [n] miss it right away. It was so nostalgic and perfectly soothing that she wished she could listen to it for at least a bit longer. Instead of that, she heard footsteps. Someone was getting close to the room she was in. The girl anticipated quietly with her eyes on the door - her gaze didn't move an inch when someone pressed the handle.

The door opened slowly and a young, blonde man walked through them quietly. His light, piercing eyes were focused on [n].

„Finally awake, I see,” he said as he started making his way through the room. When he got to the bed, he sit at the edge of it and continued with a low, rather emotionless voice. „How do you feel?”

[n] was silent for a while, analyzing the man's appearance, trying to remember if she knew him or not. He was quite tall and slim, with pale skin, light hair, and icy eyes. His face features were sharp and somehow very noble, with quite high, pronounced cheekbones and a straight nose. He was dressed rather formal, in white shirt and black dress pants. As [n] concluded, he could be around her age, maybe a bit younger. His expression remained stern and unmoved the whole time – something about it made [n] feel kind of intimidated and overly shy, like the stranger was looking through her entire being.

„I feel fine, thank you very much for asking...”, she answered timidly. „May I ask who are you and what is this place?”

Though his expression didn't seem to change, she could swear she saw something new in his eyes. A tiny hint on satisfaction, maybe?

„You don't remember anything, do you?” He asked with the same cold voice. His gaze seemed to become even more intense, and suddenly her head was flooded with terrifying memories of strange rooms, vicious monsters and a horrid, after-bite pain in her calf.

„Ah!” Her eyes widened as she put her hand over her mouth and started trembling.

„Hush now,” He ordered calmly, his eyes still focused on her. „...you are not in danger anymore. This is a safe place – the only one you could ever find in this world.”

[n] was looking at him with a shocked expression.

„What...what world? How did I get here? And...where did I exactly come from?” She asked, her voice cracking. The lack of information was making her panic.

„I don't know,” He cut her shortly. „...and considering the fact that I'm the only living person besides you here, I'm afraid no one will give you the answers.”

„I don't understand....remember....anything besides...” [n] was talking incoherently. „..this place, the monsters...my leg...!”

„Ah, yes, about your leg – I need to see if it's healing properly. Would you mind?” He asked as he looked at [name]'s quilt-covered legs. Again, there was no sign of compassion or empathy in his words – the question itself seemed more like a formality than a legit request for permission. Despite that, [n] gulped and nodded, still shivering - for some reason, a part of her felt like she needed to trust him, though she couldn't find any logical reason why. She could feel her cheeks getting slightly warm as he uncovered her left calf and removed the neatly tied bandages she had on it. _Was he the one who treated the wound?,_ [n] thought as she watched him work. For some reason, it was helping her calm down. He was precise and fully focused on his task - soon, the bandages were gone and [n] could see a perfectly stitched laceration. Though the sight made her kind of queasy, she couldn't help but feel rather impressed at how professional it looked.

„Everything seems to be healing fine, but you need to lay and rest a lot.” The blonde man broke the silence, as he disinfected the wound and started putting a new bandage on it. [n] was silent, thinking about what to say – even though she was much calmer now, she still had a lot on her head.

„So you saved me on that day...? Why?” She asked finally.

„I did,” He answered shortly, still working on the bandages. „...and why wouldn't I? Isn't it common sense?”

„It's just...I don't know what to say...how to explain how grateful I am. If it wasn't for you I would have...” [n] couldn't manage to finish her sentence as she looked down.

„You don't need to say anything. I did what I had to do.” He stated dryly as he finished treating the wound. „We'll talk about it more once you're fully rested and less confused. Now, I believe, you still need some sleep. You seem tired.”

He was right – with every passing minute, [n] felt more and more drowsy. She found it a bit strange, since she felt like she has already slept for quite a long time before waking up in this so-called safe space. Despite that, the tiredness somehow appeared once again and seemed to be growing rapidly. There was one thing she absolutely had to ask before falling asleep, though.

„What is your name?” She looked at her companion. He gazed at her for a few seconds, before shifting his focus to the sunflower field behind the window. For once, his gaze seemed rather distant and less intense.

„Ruben.”

[n] couldn't help but think that this name fit him very much.

„I'm pleased to meet you, Ruben.” He flinched, almost unnoticeably. „My name is [n].”

He remained quiet for a few more seconds, still staring at the sunflowers, before finally replying.

„The pleasure is all mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take care of something.” He got up and started making his way to the door. „Sleep well.”

[n] laid her head on the pillow. As Ruben was pressing the door handle, one last question popped into the girl's mind.

„The piano...was it you playing?” She asked quietly. He looked back at her.

„Indeed.”

„May I ask what is the name of the piece you chose?”

„Gymnopédie No.1”

[n] smiled softly.

„...it was really beautiful.” She said, and her eyes closed. Ruben's expression was cryptic as he looked at her for a few more moments. Eventually, he turned around and left the room.

 

*******

 

Everything went back to as it was. No sun, no flowers, no peace - the mansion became dark and gruesome again. Ruvik was looking at his own reflection in the mirror. He also wasn't the imaginary version of himself anymore – the version that was created from the last memories of his _untainted_ appearance, of _years and years_ of picturing himself as _normal-looking_. Now, all the burns and scars he could see on his body were a painful reminder that it was all just an illusion.

Still, he was satisfied. He knew his mind was powerful, but he was truly impressed with the delusional safe place he created for the sake of his new experiment. _[n]_. He turned around and looked at her trapped, comatose self. She was leaning on the bars, her eyes blindfolded, her lips curled upwards in a faint, absent smile. A bit grotesque, but he liked it that way.

Maintaining the illusion was a draining task – he had to keep himself almost unhumanly concentrated all the time. He couldn't let any dark thought in, or else the imaginary safe place would look just like any other part of STEM. Ruvik knew he couldn't let it happen, or the whole experiment would go to waste. Besides, he enjoyed a bit of a challenge. His new subject was rather weak-willed and easy to manipulate anyway.

He moved through several places in a blink of the eye, collecting his thoughts. Eventually, he found himself in the one that he wanted to stay in - his old research room. There, he found what he was looking for – a recording device he used so many times while conducting his previous experiments. He smiled to himself almost maliciously as he turned it on.

 

„Experiment number thirty, subject numbers: forty-one, forty-two...”

 

 


End file.
